


an afternoon visit

by presidentwarden



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Conversations, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/presidentwarden/pseuds/presidentwarden
Summary: With the door latched behind them, they fall into each other’s arms. Orsino buries his face in the crook of Sebastian’s neck, just trying to settle himself, drawing sharp breaths through his tense chest. His arms wrap loosely around Sebastian’s narrow waist. Sebastian rests his chin on the top of Orsino’s head and strokes his silvery grey hair, tucking it behind his pointed ears just a little more neatly. They stay silent, just enjoying one another’s presence, a mutual stolen treasure.Orsino opens his eyes finally, inhaling deeply, and lays his head on Sebastian’s muscular shoulder, face turned to look up at him. “A week is too long to wait.”“I know, love. I know.” Sebastian squeezes him gently in a hug, beaming with a genuine smile. “I have good news. I finally have permission. I’ve convinced Her Grace to allow me to stay overnight when I visit.”Orsino blinks, taking a moment to process this. “What?”“She hates visiting the Gallows herself, so I made a bargain. I’ll provide her with reports about the status of the mages and templars.” Sebastian grins. He does love a good scheme, once in a while. “The trick is to convince her that I’m visiting out of a sense of obligation and holy duty.”





	

It’s a perfectly ordinary sort of afternoon within the Gallows, on one of the weekend days when Sebastian comes over to visit. As usual, he is dressed in his Chantry finery, but not too fine, so as to not give the wrong impression. He is up to his usual duties, going about the Circle reassuring the mages that the Maker loves them no matter what. This is a refreshing change from the past several Chantry sisters, who could not shut up about the wrath of the Maker, and who were the direct reason that Orsino canceled the ministry program. 

Gazing at the princely figure from across the courtyard, he is suddenly glad that he revived the tradition.

Sebastian is wearing an unusual combination of the Chantry outfit and a particularly hefty utility belt, normally part of his armor but tactically removed and stuffed with small gifts for the youngest mages. A few of them remind him of the servants’ children back at the Starkhaven estate, long ago, when he was little more than a youth himself. He sees no reason not to be kind to them. They are children after all, and bereft of their families. He can relate. 

Thoughtfully, he pulls out a handful of sweets and passes them out to the small mages. He holds up a hand when a heavy-helmeted Templar approaches, their own hand lingering too close to their sword. “No, serah. There is no concern.”

The templar’s voice echoes within the helmet, ringing in Orsino’s ears faintly. It is a soft light voice, too young for these kinds of morbid duties. “You must have permission for that.”

“I do.” Seb straightens his back and puts on his best cheery grin. “From the first enchanter. Surely you know him?” He gestures in Orsino’s direction, just in case.

Orsino can feel the templar’s stare through the glossy helmet.

Moments later, the templar grudgingly withdraws and paces away. Apparently the argument is not worth the while. Orsino releases a long breath. It’s a shame how quickly the recruits have their minds twisted by Meredith. Within this system, Sebastian is his lone barrier against the mighty tide of hatred and religious fervor. As a man of belief himself, Sebastian can stand up to the templars in a way that Orsino cannot, reassuring them that the Maker would always want kindness and mercy for his subjects. Meanwhile, Orsino’s own faith is long gone, if he ever had any.

Sebastian finds himself at Orsino’s side soon afterwards, laying a gentle hand on his fragile shoulder. Without gloves, the fabric of the enchanter’s robes is rough beneath his fingertips, a simple grey cloth woven with glossy thread. Orsino turns ever so slightly to look at his companion, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. “The children are grateful for your visit.”

“It’s the least I can do.” 

“I’m grateful, too.” 

Sebastian’s mouth quirks up into a smile, blue eyes glinting with kindness. He meets Orsino’s solemn stare for a moment, and then glances away, suddenly bashful. “It’s my pleasure, really. You deserve the company as much as they do.”

They are both quiet for a moment.

“Come with me.” Orsino lays a hand on Sebastian’s forearm, gripping lightly and feeling the strength of the muscles beneath. He strides across the stone tiles, his boots thudding in that familiar way. He has spent a lifetime pacing this courtyard. Sebastian follows, trailing behind distractedly as he thinks through the list of mages. He wants to be sure he has checked in on everyone from last week.

At present, Orsino and Sebastian are the only two living men on the Maker’s earth who know the list of the mages’ names for the sake of kindness, not malice. 

Orsino moves to hold the door for the prince, but Sebastian steps ahead and catches it first, ushering the enchanter through with another soft touch to his shoulder. Behind the closed doors of Orsino’s office, they can at least speak freely, without the fear of censure and interruption. Meredith is across the hall, but thank the Maker, she does not know their secret.

With the door latched behind them, they fall into each other’s arms. Orsino buries his face in the crook of Sebastian’s neck, just trying to settle himself, drawing sharp breaths through his tense chest. His arms wrap loosely around Sebastian’s narrow waist. Sebastian rests his chin on the top of Orsino’s head and strokes his silvery grey hair, tucking it behind his pointed ears just a little more neatly. They stay silent, just enjoying one another’s presence, a mutual stolen treasure.

Orsino opens his eyes finally, inhaling deeply, and lays his head on Sebastian’s muscular shoulder, face turned to look up at him. “A week is too long to wait.”

“I know, love. I know.” Sebastian squeezes him gently in a hug, beaming with a genuine smile. “I have good news. I finally have permission. I’ve convinced Her Grace to allow me to stay overnight when I visit.” 

Orsino blinks, taking a moment to process this. “What?”

“She hates visiting the Gallows herself, so I made a bargain. I’ll provide her with reports about the status of the mages and templars.” Sebastian grins. He does love a good scheme, once in a while. “The trick is to convince her that I’m visiting out of a sense of obligation and holy duty.”

“Mm.” Orsino tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you?”

“That’s at least half the reason.”

“Half?” Orsino feigns offense, with a laugh under his breath. “Sebastian, I’m wounded.”

“Well, it’s maybe just a little bit of the reason.” Sebastian hugs him again, sudden passion in his grip. “Oh, Orsino, love, if I could take you and the rest of the innocents away from here and guard them all by myself, I would. The Chantry does not care for the mages under its protection.” His tone is still cautious, as though he doesn’t want to be heard speaking such treason. “The templars do harm, not their duty.”

“Under Meredith’s rule, the templars’ duty  _ is _ harm.”

“I know.” Sebastian sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Months ago I would never have said any of this. You’ve-- you’ve shown me so much of the truth behind the Gallows walls.”

“I’m glad that you understand. That makes... at least one person.” Orsino coughs. The recent chilly weather hasn’t treated him well. He shivers, and presses closer in Sebastian’s embrace. “Please don’t mention any of this to Elthina.”

“It wouldn’t matter. She won’t listen!”

“You told her your observations?”

“No, I just-- I just--” Sebastian stutters, and clears his throat. “I mentioned that it seemed the templars had been acting in a way, uh, inconsistent with the Maker’s goodwill.”

“I suppose you could put it that way.”

Sebastian holds onto Orsino even more tightly. “Well, there’s less need to worry than usual. I’ll be staying with you.” 

Orsino smiles, a soft sad genuine smile. “How often?”

“Weekly. I hope.”

The corner of his mouth hints at a faint smirk. “Sebastian, do you remember the first time you stayed overnight-- to understand the mages better so you could minister to them, or whatever excuse you offered the Chantry?”

“Yes, I do.” Sebastian reddens at the memory. “I-- I started crying when I realized I had to leave you alone with the templars again. I was also an idiot in love. Don’t remind me. I’m still one of those.” 

“It wasn’t all bad. I was flattered.”

“Yes, I remember that rather well. Wasn’t that the first time you kissed me?”

Orsino glances away. “Maybe.”

Sebastian touches his love’s cheek earnestly, fingertips resting on pale skin. “Do that again.”

Orsino stands on his tiptoes and kisses him, obligingly. They linger for a minute before breaking away, gazing at each other with a mutual flicker of love. 

Orsino lets out a breath. “Every time I kiss you, I’m convinced a Templar is going to break my door down and accuse me of corrupting the prince of Starkhaven.”

“If they do, I’ll just tell them it’s been an absolute delight being corrupted by you.” 

“I don’t think that would convince them to leave us alone.”

“Why wouldn’t it? I’m the prince of Starkhaven!” Sebastian grins widely. “I outrank them.”

“Yes, but they have very large swords, and you do not.”

“I have my bow.”

“Not right now, you don’t.”

“But I have this, too.” Sebastian enthusiastically rummages around in his utility belt, then retrieves a very tiny frivolous folding pocket knife.

Orsino just starts laughing. “That’s not going to help.”

“It’ll help if they accuse you via letter. I could open the envelope.” Sebastian ponders this. “But if they did that, I would probably just burn it, and whisk you off to safety in Starkhaven.” 

Orsino closes his eyes.  _ I wish. _ “I can’t leave without the mages. We’ve talked about this.”

“Well-- “ Sebastian shrugs. “This is  _ definitely _ treason, but if-- if someday, you misplaced some mages, and they ended up at a better and more humane Circle, I’d certainly be willing to look the other way. I could be conveniently distracted by something else at the time.”

Orsino allows himself a smile, just for a moment. Nevertheless, he fidgets nervously, pacing on the tiled office floor. If he could have anything... “We always do this, don’t we? Talk about our silly wishes until it hits too close to home.”

“I know.” Sebastian welcomes the first enchanter into a hug again, letting Orsino breathe against his neck and memorize his scent and the feeling of his embrace. “Someday, love. For now, I’ll keep you safe. And I’ll help the others, as much as I can. I’m here for you.”

Orsino responds, his voice muffled by the collar of Seb’s robes. “If anything could make me believe in the Maker, Sebastian, I think it would be you.”


End file.
